


Easy stands by him

by ruinsrebuilt



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Buddyfic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinsrebuilt/pseuds/ruinsrebuilt
Summary: George watches Buck slowly fall apart, and tries to help when he can.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by @richardwinters on tumblr, who wanted angsty Buck/Luz. I know in the show Lipton is the one to  
> comfort Buck but we're gonna go with Luz instead. (I think this may have been the way it happened irl?) 
> 
> I wrote this without a firm idea of whether it was a romantic fic or a buddyfic. Read it however you like, I just really  
> love the chemistry between these two, either way. 
> 
> References to the deaths of Hoobler, Muck, and Penkala, as well as the wounds sustained by Toye and Guarnere. 
> 
> I took some liberties with the canon timeline and stuff, nothing drastic. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Betaed by the lovely @thatsnotmozarts (( http://thatsnotmozarts.tumblr.com ))

It was so fucking cold. 

George’s warm breath looked like smoke from a long drag of a cigarette in the freezing air, and he couldn’t stop the shivers that spasmed through his muscles. 

On top of the gloom that had settled over them courtesy of the Ardennes, morale had taken a particular nose dive after Hoobler was shot. The men were numb, shocked from the suddenness of it, and the absence of their rowdy friend was felt by every man in the company. 

He’d made it this far, through bootcamp and D-Day and the hard-fought battles that followed, only to be shot by his own goddamn weapon. Luz tried not to dwell on the memories he had with Hoob, those big eyes and his sense of humor that never quit. Or on who would be getting the news back home. It was hard not to, though. Especially when he was sitting in a freezing foxhole with only his thoughts for company. 

Well... his thoughts, and Dumb and Dumber over there. He looked over at Muck and Penkala, huddled together for warmth, making wisecracks that made even Luz roll his eyes. Those two were always at it, and while Luz appreciated comedy, this constant chattering had him seriously considering moving foxholes. Maybe he’d find one of the quieter guys like Lipton or Toye to shack up with so he could get some peace and quiet. Or, ya know, be the only funny man in the hole. One joker was good. Three was a crowd. 

He was still contemplating getting up in search of new accommodations when Buck trotted up and crouched on the edge of their hole. Luz perked up, but deflated when he saw the look in Buck’s eyes. 

“Boys.” He nodded. “How you holding up?” 

They gave him varying degrees of noncommittal responses, George barely mustering enough energy for a disgruntled groan. 

Buck was watching them closely, tension shadowing his face. Luz had seen that expression before, and it worried him. The war was getting to all of them, but Buck seemed to be slowly falling apart. George blamed the frozen hell of Bastogne. He didn’t really buy into the idea floating around that Buck had changed after he was shot in Holland. Sure he was shaken, and it took him some time to assimilate into the company again, but he was shot for Christ’s sake. Not to mention the horrors he witnessed during his time at the aid station and hospital. That’s bound to mess with you for a while. As soon as he’d gotten back with the company, he appeared to be his old self again. But George had been watching him closely, and he knew Buck was still haunted. 

Casually, he reached out and rested his hand on Buck’s knee, trying to convey everything he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. 

_I’m here for you. It’s going to be okay. We’re not going anywhere._

He felt his eyes on him briefly before Buck said, “I came by to remind you guys not to do anything stupid. Hoob had a goddamned Luger in his pants. We don’t need to lose anyone else. So no stupid stunts from you guys, got that?” 

There was a pause as Buck waited for them to respond. George was a little stumped as to why Buck felt the need to tell them this; they knew to be careful. But then again, if you had asked Hoobler, he probably would've said the same thing. 

“I’m serious, you guys...” Buck seemed nearly desperate for reassurance. 

Penk must have sensed this because he looked at him earnestly. “Nothing stupid, we got it.” His tone was placating. He nudged Skip, who nodded through the shivers. “We got it.” 

Buck turned to look at Luz with blue eyes that were duller than they’d once been. “George?” 

George was wrapped in himself, shivering and thinking, but he had been listening enough to know what Buck wanted from him. He smiled wanly. “Nothing stupid, Buck.” 

Buck looked as though he wanted to say more but decided against it. With another glance at Luz, he nodded and stood. Luz held eye contact with him, trying to read those piercing blue eyes, but something in them was closed off, distant. Buck averted his eyes before walking away. 

The clowns started up again, Penk making a joke about paratrooper stupidity that might have been funny if Luz had been in the mood to laugh. He wasn’t. Instead he grabbed a root of the tree behind him and hoisted himself out of his foxhole. He muttered some excuse about finding Lipton and followed Buck’s retreating form. 

Luz had to trot to keep up, because despite his muscle-y bulk, Buck was fast. Luz thought about calling out to him, but he wasn't sure what he was actually planning to do if he did. He stayed quiet, trailing Buck as he made his way from foxhole to foxhole, scolding a couple of the guys for being too noisy and exchanging handshakes and smokes with a few others. 

Eventually he made it to the OP and slid into one of the foxholes, settling down beside Babe, who happily stuck his hands in Buck’s jacket for warmth. A few seconds later, one of the replacements hopped out of the hole and trotted towards the back of the line. Buck must’ve been his relief. 

Luz stood there for several shivering minutes, debating whether he should check on Buck or leave him be. Luz could see his head moving slowly as he scanned up and down the opposite tree line. He seemed content to press against Babe and keep watch. 

Figuring there would probably be a better time and place for them to talk, Luz quietly backed away. 

 

+

 

Muck and Penkala were gone. 

Luz still couldn’t believe it, even though he’d _seen_ it happen. He could see it all play out in his mind, over and over, a gruesome motion picture on repeat. 

Them yelling at him to hurry up, to get to the safety of the foxhole. Until it’s not safe anymore and there’s a whistling sound, a flash of light. Dirt exploding around them and then nothing.

Luz struggled to catch his breath, wincing in pain when he is reminded that Skip and Alex will never breathe again. 

More loss, more pain. More fallen brothers. 

 

+

 

“Stay in your foxholes! Stay in your foxholes!”

No fucking problem there. Luz wasn’t about to leave his hole, not when he knew the only reason the artillery had stopped was because that’s exactly what the Germans wanted him to do. 

_No thank you._

But then he heard it. A familiar voice, but different somehow. Fractured. “MEEEEDIIIIIIIIIIC!” 

Shit. _Shit._

Luz was out of his hole and running, not even caring that he could die, should the Germans decide to start up again. The call for medic had been far off, in the direction of Buck’s foxhole. Luz wasn’t much of a praying man, but he prayed, _god did he pray,_ that Buck wasn’t hurt. 

By the time he arrived, Lip and Roe were already there. 

Luz stopped when he saw them. Joe and Bill, laying in red snow, chunks of flesh around them, and their _legs_... Luz thought he was going to be sick, but Lip was there, stepping between him and the horrific scene, saying something. 

“What?” Luz dragged his eyes to Lip’s.

“I think you’d better go check on Buck.” 

Buck. 

The owner of the fractured scream for a medic. He had been the first to lay eyes on this mess, on his friends’ torn bodies. There had been no one to snap him out of it, to distract him from the trauma. 

Luz looked to where Lip had pointed and saw Buck, sitting on a fallen tree. Luz knew that look. Staring at nothing, seeing everything he’d witnessed over and over, helpless to stop it. 

Cautiously, Luz stepped over to where Buck sat and crouched down in front of him. His hand went to his knee, and he craned his neck to get Buck to meet his eyes. “Buck? Buck, hey.” He tapped his knees gently. 

Buck stirred enough to look in his direction, nearly looking right through him. Those beautiful sky blue eyes now looked dull and grey, like the color had been sucked out along with the life that once resided there, and in its place there was now only emptiness and tears. Big, shining tears, the kind that filled your eyes and blinded you to everything but your grief. 

Buck opened his mouth and closed it again. 

“I know, Buck. I know.” Luz sat next to him on the snow-covered trunk, the hand on his shoulder rubbing soothing circles. “They’re gonna be okay. Do you hear me? They’re gonna be fine.” 

A single tear slid down his pale cheek. “They were... they... I couldn’t. If only I’d—“ 

“Hey. Hey. Look at me.” 

Reluctantly Buck looked at him. Luz squeezed his shoulder. “This is not your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done. You do what you have to do, and whatever happens, happens. You know that.” 

Buck was taking deep breaths now, a futile attempt to keep himself together. Luz saw him glance around, aware of the eyes fixed on him in concern, and he knew the only reason Buck hadn’t completely lost it was because he was trying to be strong for the men. 

It was then that Luz truly hated the war. 

Strong, brave men like Buck Compton, forced into shitty situations like this, where they ended up shot, or with friends blown to high heavens, and then made to feel less-than if they lose part of themselves with every dead brother they bury. 

The war would leave nothing left of them, and no one would care. 

Except that wasn’t true. 

Easy cared. No matter who might think less of Buck Compton for letting the war get to him (as if it were a goddamned choice), Easy Company would stand by him. They had been through hell together and they didn’t think less of him for carrying the scars. 

Luz hoped with every fiber of his being that Buck knew that. 

And when Buck’s eyes travelled back to him, the tears flowing freely down his face as he reached for Luz and buried his face in his shoulder, Luz knew the answer was yes. Buck knew.


End file.
